


Truth is a Burden

by Unfortunate



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-08-14 18:11:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16497662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unfortunate/pseuds/Unfortunate
Summary: The Ministry of Magic has many departments, one such being the Department of Repossesion. After the tragic death of Albus Dumbledore, a wizard is hired to clean out the headmasters office and catalogue what he can. When he comes across a box of memories, he learns far more about the Headmaster (and the dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald) than he was prepared for. Sometimes, stones should be left unturned.





	1. Pandoras Box

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys! Thanks for clicking on this story! I just want to let you guys know that I actually have not read the last book of HP, so things are more than likely not gonna add up to what is canon in this. I just wanted to write because I am absolutely in love with Jude Law as young Dumbledore.   
> I would love to hear what you guys think about this, good and bad, so please leave a comment with any concerns or suggestions!  
> So once again, thanks!! Hope you enjoy!!

A cool night wind howled across the vast fields surrounding Hogwarts School of Magic. It was nearly the break of dawn when a wizard in an amber traveling cloak stepped up to the large wooden doors. The castle above him felt… absent. He was unsure if it was due to the time of day, or if the castle itself was mourning the loss alongside its occupants. Either way, the man in amber felt uneasy as he waited to be invited inside. Eventually, an older witch in emerald robes opened the door. Her face was sharp and strong with age, but her red rimmed eyes gave away her fragile state,  
“Professor Mcgonagall.” The man bowed his head in greeting, “my name is-“  
“Yes, yes. I know who you are.” She mumbled impatiently and waved him inside. As he entered the front hall, he turned to her once more and said, with complete honesty,   
“I'm so sorry for your loss. He was a great man and will be deeply missed.” Her face softened for only a moment,  
“He was and will be. I'm glad you understand that.” She said before turning abruptly and heading to the stairs. The man in amber had to quicken his stride in order to catch up to her initially, but when he did he stayed a few steps behind out of respect and, although he didn’t want to admit it, fear.   
The halls were completely silent except for the echoes of their footsteps, and the man finally decided to ask a question he’d been pondering on since his journey there,  
“Professor?” He prodded with her name first to get her attention. She gave no indication she had heard him, but he guessed she probably had, “If you don't mind my asking, why did you request I arrive at this hour of the morning?” Mcgonagall didn't answer right away. Instead, she waited until they turned down a long side corridor, where she stopped to face him,  
“We need the utmost discretion for this task. There are still students and faculty here in the school and I would prefer not to worry them anymore during this difficult time. The ministry insisted that this happen as soon as possible, but… I would like to let them mourn without seeing all of their headmasters belongings shuffled through like common rubbage.” She practically spat the last sentence and the man suddenly understood exactly how she felt about his position there.   
They continued through the halls and arrived at a spiral staircase with an eagle statue in the center. Professor Mcgonagall seemed to speak to the eagle directly, “Cockroach Clusters.” She said, and the entire staircase started to turn and rise. She stepped on, followed by the wizard. At the top was an ornate wooden door, which he knew to be the headmasters office from previous professional visits with the ministry. They stopped outside and the Professor turned to him. She looked down her nose at him, even if he stood a good few centimeters above her, “I suspect this will take you a while, so I took the liberty of having a bed set up for you in the offices upstairs library. Your meals will be delivered three times a day, and if you need anything, just ask the portraits. They'll get the message to whomever. I will check in when I can. And, if you need to leave for whatever reason, please wait til after curfew. I can’t keep you here but I also don't need gossip in the halls. The students will be leaving the school in the coming days, but I should hope that you will be done before then.” And with that, she handed him a large brass key and made her way back down the staircase. The man faced the door and prepared himself before turning the handle and entering.   
In front of him was a familiar scene. Not only was it familiar because he had been in this office on more than one occasion, but also because old wizards had a tendency to hoard, and that's exactly what he saw before him. Full bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, and any books that couldn't fit were piled in waist high stacks all throughout the room. Glass cases covered any bookless sections of wall and within they were crowded with priceless artifacts and magical items. The dueling stairs that led to the second floor library were also used as storage space, leaving only a sliver of a walkway in the center of each side. A desk stood out in the space beneath the second floor, between the staircases. It, too, was covered with scrolls and other odds and ends.   
The man felt as if he was intruding, more so than any other time he had done this, and he had gone through many deceased's belongings in his line of work. He made his way through the piles and up the stairs to the library where he found the bed that Professor Mcgonagall had told him about. He was only expecting a cot, but before him was a beautiful wooden bed with a thick woolen quilt and large down pillows. It was pushed against a bare bit of wall, which he assumed was once occupied by some of the mess that was stacked around him, but it was honestly hard to tell. He placed his briefcase on the bed and pulled his cloak off from around his shoulders, revealing a white collared shirt with a navy vest and matching trousers. The wizard opened his briefcase and reached in up to his shoulder, pulling out a pair of white cotton gloves. He shoved them into his pocket and walked back down the steps, searching around until he spotted what he wanted, “Ah Ha!!” He exclaimed. An old gramophone sat in the corner by the office door. A few records were stacked outside of their sleeves, leading the man to believe that they must have been played often. He grabbed the top vinyl and flipped it over a few times in his hands, but there was no label. Out of pure curiosity, he put it down and moved the needle in place at the edge of the circle. Immediately, big band music started to play throughout the room. It was energetic and loud, and overall a happy and playful tune. The man smiled and decide it was a good choice, so he turned and started to work on the task at hand: organizing.   
It was quite late in the day when a house elf named Gerdy brought the wizard his tray for dinner. He was nearly hidden behind a wall of alphabetized journals, and he placed three more on the shortest shelf before standing up to greet her and accept the meal in hand,  
“Would Sir like anything from Gerdy while shes present?” The house elf asked. The man said no with a kind wave, and off Gerdy went back out the door. The tray stacked high with steaming meatloaf drenched in gravy, green beans, and a roll slathered with butter. After working for so long, he felt like he was at his most motivated and didn't want to stop simply to eat, so he decided to start organizing the the desk at the center. It was going to be the easiest of everything to clean out, he assumed.   
Moving a stack of scrolls on to the floor, he set his tray down and sat in the red velvet arm chair. taking a few bites of the green beans. It was delicious, just like both of his other meals had been that day. Continuing with his food, he simultaneously started sliding open the drawers on either side of the desk, taking into mind the contents at first glance. Feathers, more scrolls, and inkwells filled the top drawers. It looked that one of the inkwells had toppled over and spilled throughout, coating everything in pitch black,  
“Damnit.” The wizard hissed. Cleaning it out would be simple enough, but it was a task for another time. He took another bite and opened the next drawer.   
This one was full of sweets. Almost any that the man could think of. He realized that the drawer had an extension charm on it, and he was unsure how far down it went, but it was simply filled with boxes and bags of honeydukes confectioneries. This really came as no surprise, the headmaster did after all have “Cockroach Clusters” as his password.   
The Wizard found himself smiling and shut the second drawer. As he pulled at the third drawer, he found that it was stuck shut. A locking charm was holding it in place, but he could tell that it was wearing away due to the slight wiggle it gave when he jostled it. This was no bother to him. He had come equipped with a plethora of unlocking spells, as was needed in his line of work. Wiping his hands on his pants to clean them, he pulled out his wand and ran it around the edge of the drawer front while saying the spell, “Reserare Ianuam”.   
The drawer opened with a dull pop as all the air rushed in, and he reached down to pull it out the rest of the way. Within were many small trinkets and papers. He didn't recognize any of them, but they filled the entire drawer to the top, just like the candy had. It seemed like it was merely an odds and ends space in the desk; In fact, he had one just like it in his own desk at the ministry. A place where he would throw anything he was unsure what to do with. What piqued his curiosity, though, was the reasoning as to why it was locked. He set his fork down and slid his chair back a bit so he could fully take in the contents before him. He then reached in and tried to move things around, but it was just so packed full, nothing seemed able to move. Eventually, he just resorted to taking out what he could and placing it on the desk. It was all going to have to be sorted anyway.   
As he dug further, his hand hit something large and hard. At first, the wizard assumed it was the bottom of the drawer, but on further inspection he realized it was a wooden box. He pulled it out, clearing space on the desk to set it down. It was medium in size with ornate carvings over the entire thing. There was ivory inlaid on the very top in a floral pattern. After investigating the outside a moment more, he opened the lid and found many small glass vials. A viscous looking shimmer swirled around in each of them as if they were alive, and the wizard knew that was half true.   
It was a box of memories. He had seen many vials similar to these in his lifetime. Old wizarding folk were always fond of reliving or gifting memories, so he found vials often when cleaning out homes after they've passed on.   
The Wizard somewhat hated when he found them. Part of the job was to go through them and catalogue the contents so they could be placed in the Hall of Memories back at the ministry. He felt that this was even more of an intrusion then simply going through another's belongings and he never really got used to it. The headmaster had an entire glass case of memories near the front of his office, anyway, so he had known from the start that it would be part of his task, but those were all labeled and seemed more ‘business’ than ‘personal’. Either way, it was going to be a tedious job. He sighed and continued cataloging the box.  
There seemed to be no labels on any of the vials, except for one hidden deep under the others with a note tied around it. The man slipped the note off and unrolled the paper, which was browned and stiff with age. In messy cursive it read,  
“Albus,  
Do what you will with this. Keep it, destroy it; it is now yours to choose.   
Until next time,  
GG”  
The wizard, bad feelings now aside and replaced with complete curiosity, reached back in to the box to grab the vial that paired with the note and realized it was now mixed in with the others. Devastated by his stupidity, he huffed out a large breath. He placed the note back in the box and stood up, starting his search for the Pensieve that must be somewhere in the room without a second thought towards his dinner.  
It was then that the man remembered the paintings all over the walls. Up until that point, they had been rather quiet, therefore gone unnoticed. He looked up at the one closest to him. It was a rather large portrait of an older man in black velvet robes.   
His nose was deep within a book when the Wizard cleared his throat to catch the portraits attention,  
“Excuse me…” he looked at the name plate attached to the bottom of the frame, “Sir Gregory Petruce?” The portrait jolted upright and searched around for the disturbance. When his eyes finally landed on the young wizard, he pulled off his reading monocle and squinted down towards him,  
“What do you want?” He asked in a gruff manner. The Wizard decided in that moment that he had most definitely chosen the wrong portrait to speak to, but it was too late to ask anyone else,  
“I was wondering if you might know where Professor Dumbledore kept his Pensieve? I haven’t seen it all day, but I know he has one.” He pointed to the glass carousel of memories in the very center of the room, “or did he just collect those for the fun of it?” The portrait scowled,  
“You bother me over such trivial things? Of course he has one. It’s behind those bookshelves. Third book, middle row, is the key. Tap it twice.” He rushed through the instructions then dove straight back into his book without another word.   
The Wizard rolled his eyes and made his way towards the shelf indicated. A red bound dictionary sat in the middle row, and after it had been tapped twice as per instruction, the bookshelves split apart giving way to a small room. More vials of memories lined the walls, encircling the Pensieve in the center. He ran his hand through his hair, not daring to count how many more vials surrounded him.  
The Wizard set the wooden box of vials on the ground next to the base and picked a random one. He was unsure of how he would know which belonged to the note, but he hoped it would make sense. The contents of the vial spilled out into the basin and immediately swirl about the bowl. Vivid colors speckled the top, but there was no clear image. He knew how these things worked, and he gripped the sides of the basin before submerging his entire face.   
Spinning and falling for only a few seconds, and then a gentle stop. The wizard opened his eyes and his breath hitched in his throat. He was in a field of yellow flowers, snow capped mountains out in the distance. It was late in the day; he could tell by the positioning of the sun and how gold the light was as it shrouded him in warmth. He furrowed his brows, though, because even amongst all of this beauty, he felt… enraged.   
A loud crack and the taste of electricity pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to where he thought the noise had come from just as a young man with shoulder length strawberry blonde hair came walking in his general direction. The wizard knew better than to think that this man could see him, but it was still an odd feeling being present yet unnoticed. The young man strode past him, and was quite visibly upset. He had tears in his eyes, his jaw and fists clenched tight in an attempt to control himself. A second crack made the Wizard turn back around to see yet another man,  
“Albus!” The second man called. So, this was the young professor, the Wizard thought. He had never see images of the young man, but he could see some similarities with who he had once known.   
Albus didn’t turn around, instead he continued on his path, “Albus! Wait, will you!? Why are you taking this so personally!?” The second man ran past to catch up. He grabbed Albus by the shoulder, but Albus pulled away forcefully,  
“Go back home to your ‘experiment’!” He shouted, “I don’t want any part in it.” The Wizard followed the two young men as they made their way farther into the field. The second one had blonde hair that went just past his shoulders, and it flew behind him as he tried to keep up with Albus,  
“Let me remind you that you agreed to this! It was, in part, your idea!” Albus now turned on his heels, causing the other man to practically run right into him,  
“We planned to convince them, I never agreed to control them! You can’t force people to follow us, especially not if you use the Unforgivable Curses in order to do it. It’s false power, Gellert! And that man…” Albus covered his face with his hands, “He knew what was happening, I could tell. His eyes were screaming…”   
Gellert. Where had he heard that name before? It was familiar to him, he knew that much.  
And then it clicked in his mind. The Wizard stood in shock as he fully comprehended who the two men in front of him were. Of course, he suspected Professor Dumbledore would be present since these were his belongings, but he wasn’t expecting the dark wizard that now stood before him. He had grown up hearing stories of Gellert Grindelwald, the dark wizard who attempted to take over the world and prove that wizards were the pinnacle of creation. Here he was just a young man, though, well before his years of mass destruction, but apparently already in the same mindset.   
“We spoke of this, already! What we must do! We all must make sacrifices, and yours is your sense of moral righteousness, apparently.” Gellert spat sarcastically. Albus stared at him, his eyes sad. This caused Gellert to calm his tone. He reached forward and grabbed Albus’ hand, lightly rubbing it with his thumb. Albus watched in silence as Gellert spoke again,  
“Don’t you want a world where you can be free? Where you can use magic without fear?”   
Albus breathed an almost silent, “Of course I do.”  
“Then there are things that must be done to achieve that. There are things we must do so that our sons and daughters can live without shame. So we can live without shame.” Albus didn't look fully convinced, and he pulled his hand away,  
“Yes, but there are still ways of doing this that can include freewill for both muggles and wizards alike.” This caused Gellert to roll his eyes,  
“Why do you care so much about them? They can’t do anything for themselves, they’re like babies that escaped their bassinets!” Albus’ face hardened once more,  
“What are you talking about!? Have you seen their advancements in the past one hundred years? It's incredible, I think we could learn from them.”  
“Learn from muggles!?” Gellert scoffed, “You really are off your rocker, aren’t you?”   
Albus threw his hands up in annoyance, “You’re too stubborn to understand. If we’re going to do this, we have to do it right the first time. Because, if we mess it up, we won’t get a second chance! We’ll be executed! don’t you care?” Gellert seemed to mull over what was said to him,   
“If we die, at least we’ll have died fighting for what we believe in.” His face softened and he looked Albus directly in the eye, “At least we'll have died together.”   
In an instant, the two men vanished like smoke. The Wizard was suddenly flying back through the fog of the Pensieve, and he found himself standing over the basin once more. He stayed still for a few moments, trying to comprehend the conversation that had taken place, but his brain was just not having it after the very long day he’d had. He decided he would worry about it the next day, as it had gotten quite late. He left the small room and went upstairs to his bed, getting changed in to his night robes and climbing on in. But, as he tried to shut his eyes, he just kept hearing the two men over and over again. He wanted to know what the experiments were. More importantly, he wanted to know why that box full of memories was hidden away. Before he could ponder on it any longer, sleep overtook him, and he dreamed of the bright yellow field.


	2. The Fiance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I know its been a while, but Im in finals here at school so things are busy. Not too much happens here, just a bit of drama because Im a sucker for a dramatic entrance. I promise to try and update more when I can.
> 
> Thank you all SOSOSO much for your support! It really means a lot to me! Its also been giving me the motivation to get back into writing (when I have time). Hope you all have a great holiday season!!

Bright, warm sunlight streamed in through the upstairs window, somehow finding its way directly in the Wizards eyes. He rolled over and covered his face with the cozy quilt that had been laid out the day before. Unsure of the time, he peeked out from under the covers and just about screamed out of sheer surprise.   
Gerdy the house elf stood only a meter away from the bed holding a breakfast tray,  
“Is sir ready for his food?” She asked, raising her brow in questioning. The Wizard closed his eyes once again and took a deep breath,  
“Merlin, Gerdy. You scared the life from me.” Gerdy seemed unfazed by this statement and simply repeated her question. The Wizard pushed himself up into a sitting position,  
“Yes, yes. I’m ready for breakfast. You can leave it on the table right here.” He pointed at the bedside table directly next to his pillow,  
“Alright, sir.” She said, setting the tray down, “is there anything else y’need?”  
“No, thank you very much.” The Wizard gave Gerdy a smile and a nod before she turned and left him to his meal. He never felt particularly hungry when he first woke, so he left his meal alone and curled back up to try and get a few more minutes of rest. It was then that he remembered what he had discovered the day before, and as much as he tried to clear his mind, he couldn't shake what he had seen.   
Before he knew it, he was back downstairs, plucking a new memory from the wooden box. He stopped a moment and looked out at the mess in the rest of the office. There was a job to be done, and yet here he was, watching memories as if they were exciting new episodes on the telly. Part of the task was to review memories, but he had never been this excited before. To make himself feel better, he resolved to get all of the memories out of the way first, including the ones in the glass carousel and the small room around him. It was going to need done eventually, anyway.  
Feeling less guilty now that he’d given himself an excuse, the Wizard uncorked the memory in hand and poured it into the basin.  
The Wizard landed in a dimly lit living room and was alerted immediately to the fact that he wasn’t alone by a worried voice to his left.  
“Iris! You don't understand! If they’ve caught him… I don't know what they’ll do to him. What if they imprison him?” Gellert paced back and forth as a young woman with blonde hair watched from a couch. She seemed far less agitated and almost bored in comparison,  
“I’m sure he’s fine.” Her voice was soft, but solid and reassuring, “We both know Albus; he likes to wander. He’s probably off helping some old woman conjure a pet canary.” This gave no peace of mind to Gellert, and his pace quickened as a result. The Wizard was worried he might bore a hole in the ornamental rug that covered the wooden floor,  
“It’s my all fault. I asked him to take a look around the Ministry after his appointment. Maybe he stumbled upon something private? Something important?”  
Iris rested herself on the arm of the couch,  
“He’ll show up, promise. Now, please! Come sit! You’re making me tired from just watching you.” Gellert stopped and looked at her with an annoyed glare, but then he seemed to think better of his actions and sat next to the woman. He leaned forward on his legs, hands clasped in nervousness,  
“I can’t move forward with the plan if he gets caught, there's no one else that I trust enough to continue with!” Iris rolled her eyes,   
“You seem to be forgetting someone.” She said, unamused, and reached out to grab his hand. She locked her fingers between his and pressed herself into his side, “Anyway, it's no use to worry. Maybe, while we wait, we can start planning for our you-know-what.” The Wizard, confused yet very intrigued, sat down on the couch across from the two, staring intently,  
“Our what? Please, don’t speak in riddles, Iris, I’m far too tired.” Iris practically growled and bolted upright,  
“You’re the most intelligent man I know, but sometimes you can be so thick.” She waited a second more for an answer from him, but he only shrugged, “Our wedding day, Gellert! Or have you already forgotten that you asked me!?” Gellert slowly blinked, and the Wizard saw the moment on his face when he finally remembered. He shook his head and pushed his long hair out of his eyes,  
“Of course I haven’t forgotten.” He assured her, standing up to meet her face to face. He took her hands in his own and pulled her close, “I’m sorry, my love. Things have been particularly difficult this week,” Iris seemed to relax as he spoke, and she gave him a kind look, about ready to forgive him, “and I’ve been a bit worried about Albus…” she rolled her eyes and sighed, pushing away once again,  
“You're always worried about Albus! It's always Albus this and Albus that! I swear, if Albus had breasts, you would be all over him.” Gellert frowned,   
“He's my best mate!”  
“Well, maybe you could give me even half the attention you give him.”  
“I give you plenty of attention. Should I remind of last night? ‘Don't stop, Gellert!’” He imitated her voice breathily. Iris turned red,  
“I do not sound like that!” She gave a laugh, losing her anger, and slapped him playfully on the arm.   
In that same moment, a loud crack came from outside of the house. They both snapped their heads towards the door, waiting to see whether it be friend or foe. Moments later the door flew open and a ragged Albus pushed his way in, closing the door behind him. He was covered in blood and dirt, with scratches on his face and hands. Looking at the two in the living room, he mumbled a quiet, “...Hello…” then fell to the floor in a crumpled pile.  
Gellert ran to him, leaping over the back of the couch to get to him faster. Iris, taking the slow way around, followed close behind,  
“Albus!” Gellert called to him frantically, but the heap of a man in front of him was far from consciousness. He picked him up and pulled him onto his lap. Looking up at Iris, eyes wide in horror, Gellert commanded, “call for help!” And off Iris ran. The Wizard kneeled down next to the two men on the floor, watching closely as Gellert cupped Albus’ bloodied face,   
“Stay with me, Albus… Please, stay with me…” he muttered. His thumb caressed the unconscious man's cheeks, wiping away reddened sweat. Iris ran back in, voice hitched in her throat, “My brother is on his way. Here, bring him to the couch.” Gellert obliged, scooping the man in his arms as if he weighed nothing, and laying him down with a pillow underneath his head. He kneeled down once more, taking Albus’ hand in both of his own, and waited for help to arrive.   
Half an hour later, the flames in the fireplace grew tall and green, spitting a young man carrying a leather case out into the living room,  
“Oh, Cyril!” Iris called and ran to embrace him. He held her and met eyes with Gellert who remained on the floor,  
“What’s happened?” Cyril let go of his sister and took the few short steps towards the couch, kneeling down next to Gellert. He dropped his case and looked Albus over as Gellert explained,  
“I’m not sure. He apparated here then collapsed. Iris called you right after it happened.” Cyril pulled out his wand and waved it over Albus’ body wordlessly. The spell caused Albus’ shirt to dissolve in thin air, leaving the man bare chested and revealing the extent of the damage. More bruises tinged his chest a deep purple and blue,   
“I’ve seen curses like this before. He’s bleeding internally. It’s an easy fix; looks like they weren’t aiming to kill.” He opened the leather case and rummaged around until he found a short, globular bottle. It had thick orange liquid inside that bubbled as if boiling, but the Wizard assumed it was cool to the touch with how Cyril held the container so casually. He uncorked it and raised Albus’ head slightly, as to not drown him while he brought the bottle to the man's lips. A little of the liquid dribbled out and down his cheek and Cyril wiped it away with his own sleeve after returning the bottle to his bag. After twenty minutes passed, the bruises on Albus’ chest started fading, slowly but surely,  
“He should wake within a few hours. If anything else happens, have Iris contact me again. Otherwise, I’ll stop back in tomorrow.” He waved his wand over Albus again, making the man's shirt reappear from thin air, “For now, let him rest. That potion will heal him, but it will take time.” Cyril stood up, as did Gellert. Iris threw her arms around her brother once more,  
“Thank you, Cyril, for coming so quickly.” Gellert said, reaching out to shake the other mans hand. Cyril looked down but kept his arms around his sister,  
“I did it for Iris, not you.” He let go of her and stepped back over to the fireplace, grabbing a handful of floo powder from the bowl on the mantel,  
“Burdrop!” He shouted clearly and threw the powder at his feet, causing green flame to engulf his entire body. In a second, he and the flames were gone, leaving Iris and Gellert with the unconscious man on the couch,  
“I have a feeling he hasn’t quite warmed up to me yet.” Gellert remarked sarcastically. Iris gave a faint smile and shrugged,  
“If you wait around for him to approve of you, you’ll be waiting for centuries.”  
Left with those words hanging in the air, the Wizards vision swirled into smoke and he was once again standing with the Pensieve in front of him. Using his wand to scoop the memory he had just finished viewing out of the basin, he placed it back in its vial, labeled it, and reached into the box to pull out a new one. It was only then that he saw movement from the corner of his eye,  
“Enjoying yourself?” The Wizard turned to fully see who was in the room with him, when none other then Professor Mcgonagall stepped in through the open doorway,  
“Professor, what a pleasant surprise!” The Wizard spoke, trying his best to sound cheerful but his voice shook slightly with nerves. He was doing his job like he was supposed to, but he felt as though he were caught red handed. The older woman just had a way of making even adults feel like unruly students,  
“I thought I would check in and see how you are doing.” She looked behind her at the mess that was the rest of the office,  
“I decided to categorize the memories first; get it out of the way.” The Wizard explained. She looked back at him, disapproval in her eyes, “If you do not need me elsewhere, that is.” He felt her piercing gaze cut between his eyes and half expected her to start scolding him. Instead, she calmly asked,  
“Would you like any assistance?” This took the Wizard by surprise, and he hesitated a moment before responding,  
“Uh, no. I think I’ve got things under control. Everything needs to be filed a certain way, and, unfortunately, I’m the only one that knows how to do it.” He wasn't sure what else to say, so ended simply with, “Thank you for offering, though. You’re more than welcome to stay! I only ask that you wait until I’m done to claim any of the headmasters belongings.” The older witch clicked her tongue as if in thought, then strode further into the room,  
“Did you know Professor Dumbledore well?” She asked. The Wizard remembered back to the few times he had met the man before his death,   
“Only on a professional level, I’m afraid.” The older witch nodded in agreement,  
“Most only knew him like that. He wasn’t one to allow others into his life easily. I was one of the fortunate few.” She looked at the Pensieve solemnly,  
“I’m learning quite a bit about him. It's a gift and a curse in my line of work. I feel as if I become friends with my clients a bit too late.”  
“That is unfortunate.” She pursed her lips and frowned, “You will know the headmaster far better than I ever did by the time you finish. He was a man of many secrets.” She turned and started walking out of the small room, giving one last glance behind her with parting words,  
“If it were up to me, I would keep it that way.” Professor mcgonagall strode out of view, leaving the Wizard alone with the Pensieve and the rest of Albus Dumbledore's secrets.


End file.
